Meliea Rose Watson

THERE is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.

Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.

Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.


Walter De La Mare

Bernie Bushe

November 30, 2011

Walk Within You

If I be the first of us to die,
Let grief not blacken long your sky.

Be bold yet modest in your grieving.
There is a change but not a leaving.

For just as death is part of life,
The dead live on forever in the living.
And all the gathered riches of our journey,
The moments shared, the mysteries explored,
The steady layering of intimacy stored,

The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,
The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,

The wordless language of look and touch,
The knowing,
Each giving and each taking,
These are not flowers that fade,
Nor trees that fall and crumble,
Nor are they stone,

For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand
And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.

What we were, we are.
What we had, we have.
A conjoined past imperishably present.

So when you walk the woods where once we walked together
And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow,

Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,
And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,

And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,

Be still.
Clear your eyes.
Breathe.

Listen for my footfall in your heart.
I am not gone but merely walk within you.


Taken from The Smoke Jumper, by Nicholas Evans

Bernie Bushe

November 21, 2011

An Angels Kiss

We never stop to mention
Anything we might just miss
But if the wind should blow softly
You'll feel an angels kiss

A kiss that's sent from heaven
A kiss from up above
A kiss that's very special
From someone that you love



For in your pain and sorrow
A kiss will help you through
This kiss is very private
And is only meant for you

So when your heart is heavy
And filled with tears and pain
and no one can console you
Remember once again

About the one you grieve for
and so sadly miss
That gentle breeze you took for granted
Was your angels kiss

xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx

Bernie Bushe

November 11, 2011

Acceptance

It isn't letting go.
It's going on.
It isn't only shadows,
And it isn't only dawn.
It isn't getting through it,
It's letting it come through me.
Not living in the darkness,
Though the darkness We can see.
It's living with the sorrow
But finding memories sweet.
It's knowing that it takes both sides
To make it all complete.
It's soaking up the sunshine
Along with the rain.
It's learning to let laughter
live side by side with pain.
It's knowing that the years
Won't change a love that's real,
Or take away the joy you brought,
or the sorrow that We feel.
It's knowing tears and laughter
Can live on the same face,
And your impression on OUR hearts
Can never be erased.

Gwen Flowers

Bernie Bushe

September 30, 2011

Precious Child by Karen Taylor Good

In my dreams, you are alive and well
Precious child, precious child
In my mind, I see you clear as a bell
Precious child, precious child
In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart, there is hope
'Cause you are with me still

In my heart, you live on
Always there never gone
Precious child, you left too soon
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever... in my heart

In my plans, I was the first to leave
Precious child, precious child
But in this world, I was left here to grieve
Precious child, my precious child

In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart there is hope
And you are with me still

In my heart you live on
Always there, never gone
Precious child, you left too soon,
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever... in my heart

God knows I want to hold you,
See you, touch you
And maybe there's a heaven
And someday I will again
Please know you are not forgotten until then

In my heart you live on
Always there never gone
Precious child, you left too soon
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever... in my heart

Bernie Bushe

September 5, 2011

♥.*.♥ PICTURE FRAME♥.*.♥

♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
When you look into a picture,
of your loved one that's deceased
The one that shared your life with you.
The one who is now at peace.
♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
You look upon that picture
with a sense of disbelief
A sense of incredulity -
for you - there is no release.
♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
For you there is no answer
that can truly satisfy
the hot salty, water
that's now welling in your eyes.
♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
You reach out and touch
the image, that you see.
They look so vibrant, so alive
Ah, but that's the trick, you see.
♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
Because pictures are illusions,
of months and years gone by.
An optical illusion
that tricks a blinking eye.
♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
If a picture can retain a body
Then why can't they stay alive?
Why can't they reach out
and touch you? to tell you they've
survived?
♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
You want them back the way they were
when you touch their picture in a frame.
But remember that one day,
you will be where they are just the same
as your loved ones feel the pain;
of you within a picture frame...
♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥.*.♥
{c} 2006
Wayne Leon Learmond

Bernie Bushe

September 2, 2011

IN A GARDEN FOR ANGELS

Life is a gift not ours to keep,
A seed unsown and yet we still reap.

Here for only a very short while,
The heavenly reality of an earthly denial.

Like a flickering light here and then gone,
The essence of what love is based upon.

Birth and death the beginning and end,
As one heart breaks another one mends.

What was never ours is no more,
Returning to whom it belonged before?

Tear filled eyes silence the heart,
As body and spirit slowly part.

Life is a journey from first breath to last,
Memories left behind in the eternal past.

The here and now releases becoming a remember when,
Replanting the seed so that a new harvest can begin.

With trembling hands love says good-bye,
But still the heart can't help but ask, "Why God Why?"

Bernie Bushe

August 1, 2011

My Dearest Loved One ~



I received your Letter from Heaven,

It made the teardrops fall.

But knowing you’re with God above,

Sweet memories, I will recall.



I know that you are with me,

For I feel your presence near.

And if I listen closely,

Your voice I then can hear.



I know you’re watching o’er me,

As you promised you would do.

And when I feel so saddened,

It’s your letter that sees me through.



When I lay in bed at night,

The day’s chores put to flight,

I truly feel your presence,

Like a warm and glowing light.



The rocky roads you mentioned,

And the hills that I must climb;

I’ve done exactly what you said,

By taking one day at a time.



I’ve tried to help others,

Who are in sorrow and in pain.

And now I am contented,

My day was not in vain.



I’ll lend a hand, as you have said

When someone is feeling low.

I’ll pray for them and be here,

‘Till on their way they go.



And when it’s time for me to go,

To join you in heaven high.

My wings I shall spread wide,

To my home up in the sky.


Author

~ Ruth Ann Mahaffey ~

~ � Copyright 2004 ~

Bernie Bushe

July 4, 2011

ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*

Faith—is the Pierless Bridge
Supporting what We see
Unto the Scene that We do not—
Too slender for the eye.
It bears the Soul as bold
As it were rocked in Steel
With Arms of Steel at either side—
It joins—behind the Veil
To what, could We presume
The Bridge would cease to be
To Our far, vacillating Feet
A first Necessity.

~ Emily Dickinson

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To hope is to fly.
To fly is to dream.
To dream is to believe.
To believe is to do.
To do is to give hope.
To give hope is to fight the fight of angels.

~ Author Unknown

ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*ღ*

Bernie Bushe

June 24, 2011

What kind of place would heaven
be with all its streets of gold, If
all the souls, that dwell up there
like yours and mine, were old?
How strange would heaven’s
music sound when harps begin
to ring,
if children were not gathered
‘round to help the angels sing.
The children that God sends to
us are only just a loan,
He knows we need their sunshine
to make the house a home.
We need the inspiration of a baby’s
blessed smile.
He doesn’t say they’ve come to stay,
just lends them for a while.
Sometimes it takes them years to
do the work for which they come.
Sometimes in just a month or two
our Father calls them home.
I like to think some souls up there bare
not one sinful scar.
I love to think of heaven as a place
where children are.

unknown

Bernie Bushe

June 17, 2011